XMM oneshots
by Leni
Summary: Mostly WolverineRogue. Rating is a blanket one.
1. Autumn Leaves

_**DISCLAIMER:** Uh... Marvel?  
**WORDCOUNT:** 2385  
**SUMMARY:** This began as an angsty fic. Serves me to understand that my muse doesn't follow my directions. frown It's a Marie&Logan scene. Yes, &, not /. I tried pairing them off, but they just wouldn't let me. pout I swear, not even Spike and Dawn have ever been this mean.  
**FEEDBACK:** Oh, I know it's a bad day to be posting fics. But, pleeeeeease?  
**DEDICATION:** As all my X-men stories, this was Sharon's fault. Except that this time she didn't have to say a word. I was happily reading Still (which, when you think about it, it's a very oxymor-y sentence), when I realised that I couldn't let a year go without writing at least a little W/R ficlet. So, say thank you to Sharon. I know I do. smooches her  
**THANK YOU:** to Sharon for the beta!  
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**AUTUMN LEAVES**

_by Leni

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He says that she looks like leaves in autumn.

He says it while she's trying to find a comfortable spot on his bed, fluffing his pillow in a way no Logan-pillow should be fluffed. At his words her head rises in surprise; she lets his pillow slip free as she sits straight on the mattress. "Autumn leaves?"

He nods towards his disarranged bed. It was so tidy when Marie barged into his room earlier. But she's had a crappy day, what with Ororo giving her a D- in History and making her stay through an embarrassing lecture before the whole class about keeping her focus in class. She can't even hate the teachers in this place, and that can be very stressful when one is a teenager looking for someone to blame for the flush in her cheeks.

After the class was dismissed she came directly to Logan. She barely remembered to knock on his door before turning the knob, not because she dreaded finding him in a non-decent non-clothed condition and not because he'd mind if she did, either. She had learned to knock because Jean had once caught her when she'd walked in on a towel-clad Logan, and Marie doesn't want a repeat of _that_ lecture. Especially in front of an obviously amused man who'd finally announced that he'd be changing into his clothes and that they'd better decide real fast on which side of his door they wanted to be while he did it. Jean was pulling her outside before Marie could tell if he was being serious.

She thinks he was, by the way. She wouldn't have minded. She'd have blushed a lot but wouldn't have minded the spectacle one bit. The offer hasn't been repeated, though, and she knows it's because Jean never steps into his room unless she sees Marie-shaped students ogling half-naked Logans.

Marie agrees wholeheartedly with Jean's absence in Logan's room, so she makes sure to knock and enters when she hears his grunt of welcome. He's been sitting at his desk, a real surprise since she mostly finds him sprawled on his bed, flipping through sports channels and never settling on any game unless she makes him. But the huge bed is empty this time, and Marie promptly grins before launching herself onto it. The grin dies when her body remembers how hard the mattress really is. How Logan can endure it, she has no idea. But then she thinks that he might very well have slept on actual rocks before, so his bed wouldn't sound so bad in comparison. She shrugs to herself and toes off her shoes, purposely ignoring Logan's cocked eyebrow as she bounces, rolls and twists in her search for _that_ perfect spot.

"For God's Sake, Marie. It's just a bed!" he snaps out after twenty minutes. "You look like leaves in autumn," he adds out of the blue.

The first sentence, she gets. He is always between bemused and impatient when she treats his mattress like a most important lab-experiment, which had to be treated in a precise way or it just won't work. But it's the second part that throws her and now Marie is left looking confused at the non-Loganish words. When she questions him, he points to the mess she's made of his sheets and covers and shakes his head. "You can never stay quiet, kid."

He doesn't say anything else and she's left wondering if it was a compliment or not. She figures out that since _he_ can never stay quiet either; it could be considered a good thing. Hopefully. Hands kept behind her back, she crosses her fingers and beams at him innocently.

Logan doesn't answer the smile, but he rarely does anyway so she doesn't take it personally. Instead he pushes the work he was doing aside and asks how her History test went. She's taken aback for a second. He barely remembers her birthday and that she likes honey instead of maple syrup on her pancakes, but he remembers her History test? Marie decides to count her blessings, though. Anything is better than nothing, especially from the man who never remembers half of her friends' names and doesn't even acknowledge the other half. Except for her roommates, sometimes, and only because Jubilee and Kitty are too loud and pushy to be ignored.

"Marie?" he asks, frowning because she hasn't answered yet.

Keeping a pout, she shows him the damning sheet of paper and Logan looks actually surprised when she shows him the horrible D- besides her name. "I thought you'd been studying all weekend."

Marie's face pales and she quickly shoves her test back into her bag. "Bad day," she mutters. True enough, she came into Logan's room on Saturday morning claiming that she had a big test and that her roommates were being pains in the ass and he wouldn't mind if she spent some time in his much quieter space, would he? Logan rolled his eyes and wordlessly held the door open, surely thinking that Marie was a bit crazy for asking permission at all. But her book stayed open on the same page all Saturday, while Marie looked at him all sprawled and relaxed. On Sunday the scene was repeated, except that this time she claimed to have finished by lunchtime, and then she looked at him with the widest eyes she could make until Logan himself closed her History book and invited her out for a bite.

Ororo was so wrong earlier. Marie doesn't need to pay more attention in class. It's the study-time outside it that is suffering, what with Logan's prolonged presence and his growing interest in her. She'd always known that he'd be back, but in her imaginations of his return she didn't truly expect any sort of friendship between them. Months had passed without a word from him and even though she'd practically jumped from her bed and raced downstairs when she heard Logan's voice, Marie believed that the status quo would prevail. He, adult and official X-men; she, underage and Xavier's student. But their short greetings slowly developed into actual conversations, small ones, of course, no one could claim that the Wolverine was talkative. Until one day her stomach growled right in the middle of his version of the last mission. Marie blushed brightly; he chuckled and before she knew it, she was placing a helmet onto her head and being convinced that taking Scott's favourite bike wasn't against any rule. Since then that has been their routine, more or less, with outings that grow more frequent and longer as the months go by.

Marie can sincerely tell that it's the best time of her life. Especially since she didn't expect it. After Logan first came back to the mansion, everything between them was so strained. With so many burdens weighing on their acquaintance, Marie is amazed she never tripped around him. She has a crush on him, and she knows that he knows it. He is obsessed with Jean, and though everyone knows that, Marie is the only one who doesn't glare at him reproachfully. How can she? All her glares are directed to the redheaded doctor. Then there's the whole Statue of Liberty business. Over two years in the past but very present when they are in the same room. Logan saved her life that once, and she almost took his in return. She still can't touch anyone, and it goes unspoken that he probably is the last man she'll ever touch unless a miracle or a disaster happens. He is still tormented by his unknown past and can't really relate to her problems. Besides, he claims loudly that typical teenage angst tires him, while she tells everyone left and right that she wants to be as typical a teenager as she can be.

But in the end, they talk. Or she rants and he grunts. Or he describes far-away places and she fires questions as if she hasn't seen Canada with her own eyes. And sometimes he'll watch TV and she'll be sitting on his desk trying to concentrate on her homework. Or she'll give up and sit beside him and beg until he takes pity on her and leaves it at some football match. She hates football, but it's the only thing he seems to enjoy for a considerable length of time, so she had learned about the main teams and the main plays and lets him explain everything else.

He never ever mentions her crush. She never ever mentions Jean and Scott's engagement.

He gruffs at her when she visits him too early and takes the blame if they come back too late. He takes her to mild clubs and bustling restaurants and won't let her sip from his drinks even after a wide-eyes routine. She tells him where Mr. Summers has hidden the bike this time and won't let him wear those oldest sneakers on earth even after he almost growls in her face. Logan doesn't mind her humming her favourite pop songs a couple of steps away from him, not even in those few times he falls asleep after a mission. She always makes sure that he has a beer handy even though beers are forbidden in the dormitory area.

It works.

It's been almost a year since his return and for the last three months Marie has been able to enter his bedroom without the threat of having her head chopped off in the attempt. It's been almost a year since she rushed down the stairs to welcome him and only in the last weeks have Jubs and Kitty stopped teasing her.

And now he's comparing her to leaves in autumn, and he actually remembers what she was studying for over the weekend.

Well, she will make out of this as much as she can. "Would you mind helping me with it?" Marie says before she can stop herself to think it through. Then she rushes to explain before his sceptic look becomes a negative. "Look, you only have to ask questions and if I get them right, then yay! And if not, well..." And if not, I get to spend more time studying in your room. That's what she should say if she were 100 honest. But she's not, not around Logan and much less in this moment. So she finishes lamely with a "...I'll flunk out," and adds a quick flutter of eyelashes to her plead.

He's looking at her a bit warily now, so Marie bites her lip and tries to diffuse the situation with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Don't sweat it, Logan. Really. It was just an idea, and I don't even know if you like History. Or Literature, because Mr. Summers is kind of worried about my grades and he says it doesn't make me any good to be cooped up here or out in the city with you and... Hey, no worries, I'm a big g---"

"Okay."

Now she's the one to look at him with wariness, and not just a bit of it. "Okay?"

"Yes," he says slowly, as though he's already considering taking it back. But in the end he extends a hand towards her. "Give me that book, or wherever those questions are." He pauses to look at her and she knows he's eye rolling internally at her gaping features. She closes her mouth audibly and is about to jump and hug him when she remembers that not even she jumps and hugs Logan unless there's a near-death experience involved. "Now would be good," he adds impatiently, glancing at his still-empty hand expectantly.

"Now?" He has accepted. Logan will actually - and willingly! - help her with her exams. The concept hasn't fully entered her mind when Marie is lunging for her schoolbag and reaching for that encyclopaedia-like History book. When she has it in her hands, she looks at it like her mother did to Granny's old Bible, as if it were a treasure that no one else could appreciate as much as she did. Logan certainly doesn't appreciate it, as he looks at it with arched eyebrows when he receives it. But he opens it dutifully to the page Marie has marked. After a quick skim, he looks at her and shakes his head. "And you're failing at this?"

And it's all your fault, she doesn't say. Instead she nods and does her best to look sheepish.

"And Literature, too?"

She frowns. Then remembers that she blurted out Scott's acid commentary on her friendship with Logan and its alleged consequences. So that's what made Logan agree with her idea. Figures. Of course he'd want to needle Jean's fiancé if he has the chance. Marie's shoulders slump slightly, but she quickly straightens her back as she realises that the whys don't matter as long as Logan _is_ helping her out. She pushes the disappointment to the back of her mind and offers him a bright 'thank you' smile just before he begins quizzing her on the French Revolution.

She knows it was in 1789, and could recite Marie Antoinette's biography. She never remembers which number to apply to the king, though, and confuses Marat with Voltaire. She knows about the post-revolution state of affairs and that the final irony came with a later monarchy. She smiles a little at that, thinking that Mr. Summers should give her extra credit for using 'irony' in a context that didn't include Lit class. She knows he won't, though, and smiles further when she thinks of making Logan go to Mr. Summers with that idea.

What Marie doesn't know - can't even fathom - is that Logan is more worried that she's having trouble in two subjects than about Scott's words. The latter barely registered as he was thinking of how to squeeze Marie's Cramming Time between X-men duty, the Danger Room and the local bar. He'll manage, though, he decides quickly. Even if he has to cross a couple women off his weekly list.

He corrects her on the date of the queen's execution and as she nibbles on her lip, he thinks that she's rather a sweet kid. And, when she smiles, she doesn't look like autumn anymore, but more like sunshine in the warmest spring.

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**The End**  
31/12/05

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**Feedback** is good!


	2. Seven Truths Best Left Unsaid

**DISCLAIMER:** See profile.  
**WORDCOUNT:** 901  
**SUMMARY:** Rogue. Bobby/Rogue. Wolverine/Rogue. _When she thinks of the future…._  
**RATING:** R.  
**FEEDBACK:** I'd love it.

_Written for Sharon, for the Christmas Requests._

_Unbetaed! And sorry in advance about the formatting. If you post to this site, then you know how it is. :)_

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**SEVEN TRUTHS BEST LEFT UNSAID  
**_by Leni_

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I.

Once upon a time, a happy girl had a home.

But then came her first kiss, and then came pain, and then fear and loneliness and _will I never belong again?_

It was change, and she hated it.

x

He allows her into his truck. She is surprised.

'_I want to be like you,_' she wants to say. To be in charge. To be strong.

To be safe.

But when she sees his flesh and skin reknit itself, she understands: everything comes in levels of hurts.

So what is safety?

The answer comes easily while she cowers in her seat: it's barely an illusion.

x

When she thinks of Alaska, all she remembers is disappointment.

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II.

Once upon a time, a scared girl had a second chance.

But then came war, and then came pain, and then fear and chains and _take it away, takeitaway, takeitaway!_

It's too real, and she screams in defiance.

x

Marie looks at the teenagers around her.

They stare at the dog tags hanging around her neck. Scraps of iron; they might as well be raw adamantium.

She wants to say _'I'm not like you'_, but the words get stuck in her throat.

Too quickly, she learns to pretend otherwise.

x

When she thinks of metal, she never remembers Magneto.

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III.

Once upon a time, a little girl had the ability to heal.

_'Why can't I see him?'_

It only lasted a day.

x

People are screaming around her.

Flames dance around her. Her arms, fingers to shoulders, are covered in yellow tongues. Now red. Now orange. Now yellow again.

It's not the same. It never will burn the same.

"Don't touch her!"

She laughs. Laughs until someone thinks to throw their sweater around her and pull her away from the fireplace.

"Call St. John!"

The flames die quickly under a boy's whisper, and then he's standing over her, shivering in fury. _'Did I steal your toy?'_ "I can't give it back to him," she giggles instead. Watches as her flesh and skin reknits. The way his didn't the last time she saw him.

"Are you crazy?" the boy hisses, as close to her face as anyone (but _him_) has dared for months.

"I'm Rogue."

Not even she knows what kind of answer that is.

x

When she thinks of nightmares, she remembers every detail in his shades of green.

.

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IV.

Once upon a time, a lucky girl had a boyfriend.

But he was too much of a boy to be a real friend, too much her friend to see him as a boy.

He was perfect, and she could never touch him.

x

A thousand almosts.

An almost kiss through her silken scarf. Almost sex through his sheets.

(Almost loving him.)

Falling asleep with his fingertips brushing carefully along her covered arms. Waking up with a gasp, the feeling-memory of cold metal claws cutting - no, stabbing. _Connecting._ She remembers how her insides had frozen at the touch, how her blood slowed until the world was so cold it burned her.

It will never be the same again.

"Rogue. Are you listening to me?"

_'Shhh.'_ "Is that…?"

A motorcycle roars in the entryway.

"Rogue?"

_'Shhh!'_ "I'll come back." _'I won't.'_

A thousand and one levels of hurt.

x

When she thinks of ice, she doesn't remember Bobby anymore.

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V.

Once upon a time, a mutant girl had been too young.

But years had passed, and the girl had grown up.

Change. For the first time, she blessed it every day.

x

It's twelve days until she tracks him down to a private room. His room.

"What's up, kitten?"

The walls have too many memories. "Everybody calls me Rogue now." Three never-forgotten lines start burning, chest to back, and she must hug herself against the sudden cold.

"It actually stuck, huh?" He takes a look at her, stopping at the right places.

"You don't like?"

"The nickname? No," he betrays himself.

_'What about the rest?'_ She smiles, a smile she picked from his best memories and saved until now. "Of course. The Wolverine cannot be like everybody else." _'What will you do about it?'_ "Can you, Logan?" Before he answers, she's already left. But she makes sure to forget her favorite silky scarf on his nightstand.

For a long time, he does nothing.

x

When she thinks of the past, he is all she sees.

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VI.

Once upon a time, a girl was just a girl.

x

It's twelve months until he tracks her down to her classroom. Privacy gets tossed out of the window as a lone glove is tossed onto her desk.

"That's enough," he snarls, dressed only in sweatpants and hair sticking everywhere. "Are you listening?" Just woken up, and too angry to register her students' half-terrified reactions. "Don't play with fire, Rogue."

It's the last time he calls her that.

She picks her glove with her left hand. The right hand aims to straighten his hair. He doesn't flinch away, not even when a dozen much more terrified gasps sound behind him.

They both are good at ignoring the world around them.

_'I don't need to.'_

She shouldn't say it. Shouldn't. But this is now or never, and for the first time, she says what she means.

Because only he can understand.

This time, he doesn't disappoint.

x

When she thinks of the future…. Well, isn't that an easy one?

.

.

.

VII.

Once upon a time, Marie didn't hurt anymore.

_'It's love,'_ people said. But never to her face.

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**The End**  
06/12/08

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I'd like to say that stories posted here are **NOT **to be considered part of the same continuity. They are stand alones. :) That said.... **Feedback **is pretty!!


	3. The Good Fight

**DISCLAIMER:** Marvel.  
**WORDCOUNT:** 600  
**SUMMARY:** "What are we fighting this time, Logan?"  
**FEEDBACK:** It's pretty!  
**A.N.:** Thank you, Sharon, for the title!

_Written for **evil_little_dog**, at the Drabble Fest (Feb. '09)._

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**THE GOOD FIGHT  
**_by Leni_

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Full and content, Rogue leaned back on the grass. This was a nice spot, and she was still surprised that it'd been Logan the one to find it. He was more liable to find the perfect site for an ambush than for a simple picnicking afternoon. "What is it this time?"

Logan, who'd been about to lift a can to his lips, blinked in confusion. "Beer?"

Rogue sighed. "No. I meant, what are we fighting this time, Logan?" At his silence, she continued, "Because I love you, but every time you come around, we're suddenly an inch away from the end of the world." A year ago she'd have shied away from that dreaded l-word, but he'd been gone for too long this time. She'd missed him, and she'd promised herself to get the word out there, even if it was only one friend to another.

"Such faith, Marie," he groused, emptying his drink in one long gulp.

"I do have faith. In you," she added for good measure, and because he'd remembered to bring salad for her, Rogue didn't protest the use of her real name. "But that doesn't stop the world from changing every time you come."

"Just eat your greenery, girl." She had politely left half of the mixed salad for him; but when she'd finished her part, she'd given him one look, then glanced at the untouched half and, without another word, happily poured the whole bowl in her plate. "Nothing's wrong this time."

Rogue gave a disbelieving huff. "So 'nothing' is what's got you dragging me to the Danger Room every single day? Sometimes more than once?" She had the sore muscles to remind her of his single-mindedness. Even telling him that she kept a training schedule with the others hadn't helped. Logan had just appeared at their next session and wiped the floor with their collective asses.

Now he bit into an innocent sandwich and for once showed good manners, not speaking with a full mouth.

"And 'nothing' makes you shadow me into every possible room within the mansion, and don't deny it, Logan. God, you'd think I never learned to defend myself!" Rogue rolled her eyes.

Logan made no comment.

"And I guess it's also because of 'nothing' that Ororo's been glaring at you across the table. I can't believe she won't tell us what's wrong. We're not just students, we deserve to know…." The tirade she'd been practicing for days trailed off when Logan finally offered a clue. His hand running through her hair, though, was not what she'd expected. "Logan?"

"Yes, Marie?"

His hand didn't stop until it reached the ends of her long hair, and then it came back to her temple and started again. "You…." (You don't mean this. Do you mean this?) "You haven't called me 'Rogue' in weeks, not when it's just us." Which was exactly what she _didn't_ want to point out. She might protest the use of her name, but it still was nice to have something that was only theirs.

"Haven't I?" He sounded amused.

The bastard. A hundred colorful expressions, most learned from him, came to her tongue. But the anger flowed away as the caress along her hair suddenly became a thumb pressed gently against her cheekbone. The thumb moved. Lucky thumb, Rogue thought. She couldn't move a muscle if her life depended on it.

"Marie? I've been doing some thinking…."

No wonder he took a year off, she thought and then started laughing. "Just so you know," she finally managed, noticing his confused expression, "this _does_ count as a world-changing event."

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**The End**  
06/02/09


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